I used to write songs to god
back when I did not know a lot
or think much about what I want
It was all a lie I told myself
to believe

The amazing grace
missed it’s mark
No one saved my soul,
often gone
It was all a lie
that everyone seemed to believe

I think it requires a type of hope
and an overwhelming need to cope,
which I never could
I believe in ghosts
and electricity;
unwinding and rewiring
Nothing good ever came from the shock

I used to pray for everyone -
anxiously and, often, overdone
The weight never softened,  
always buckling under the worry
Some never need to learn,
they just know its true